


When Shower Sex Becomes Mission: Impossible

by lola381pce



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: At Last! Shower Sex, Attempted Shower Sex, Blow Jobs, Explicit Language, Five Times...plus one, Hand Jobs, Humour, Kissing, M/M, Mission: Impossible set up, No time frame coz it's all insane!, Unbelievable scenarios, Unsuccessful Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 13:04:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1942224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lola381pce/pseuds/lola381pce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Good afternoon, Mr Barton. Your mission Clint, should you decide to accept, it is to have shower sex with Senior Agent Phillip Coulson as many times as possible in the next few days, weeks, months, years... As always, should you or any of Strike Team Delta be caught or killed, the Director will disavow any knowledge of your actions. This message will self-destruct in five seconds. Good luck, Clint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Title Sequence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mad_Muse_Musings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mad_Muse_Musings/gifts), [Geeky_MikaBoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geeky_MikaBoo/gifts), [PeeDeeTee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeeDeeTee/gifts), [weepingnaiad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weepingnaiad/gifts).



> This fic really wrote itself. It was one of those five times, plus one ideas that pops into your head and doesn't leave you alone until there's at least an outline and once the outline was there the rest was down to time and a keyboard. This is the five times Clint tried to have shower sex with Phil and the one time he did.
> 
> There are thousands of brilliant Clint/Phil fics out there (been reading a lot of them recently) and I'm hesitant to write one but here it is anyway. Hope you enjoy. Please feel free to leave comments, kudos or kisses - I'm a sucker for them all. 
> 
> As usual the characters belong to Marvel and I'm just having a little fun with them. 
> 
> P.S. I dare you to read this without hearing the Mission: Impossible theme...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint knows Phil's shower needs repaired, he saw the requisition albeit upside down. In order to have shower sex with Phil, Clint can do that...what could possibly go wrong?

The Bus was in for supplies and repairs at a small base with a large airfield; the communal shower was playing up…again. The repair guy, wearing a standard issue S.H.I.E.L.D. boilersuit and carrying a toolbox with a clipboard in his other hand, headed up the ramp. He nodded to Skye tapping his forefinger against the edge of his cap as he went past. “Mornin’ Ma’am.”

“Morning,” she replied following him with her eyes as he climbed the spiral staircase. Hmmm kinda hot and vaguely familiar – probably the guy who was called out the last time the shower was busted. And did she mention he was kinda hot. He could definitely light her fuse and keep it burning a while.

The repair guy headed through the lounge area, passed the bar and command centre to the foot of the next spiral staircase, unchallenged. Hmm! He thought someone would have asked to see his orders by now but apparently not. Admittedly he didn't actually have any orders, just a clipboard. The only reason he knew the shower was broken was because he read the requisition, albeit upside down, on someone's desk. Security was a little lax it seemed, not a good sign but it made the task he’d come here to do a bit easier. He climbed the stairs to Coulson’s office and set the toolbox and clipboard on the floor then headed to the tiny shower room, peeling off his boilersuit and removing his cap, dropping them behind him. He opened the door to the sound of the shower running and the smell of strawberries and coconut; not Coulson’s usual scent but whatever… In hindsight the aroma should have tipped him off however, thinking with his cock and not his brain and completely naked, he entered the steamed up room and called out, “I’ve got my plunger in my hand, all I need is access to your ball cock and we’re ready to go.”

“Fuck off, Barton,” came the reply swiftly followed by a shampoo bottle being lobbed over the shower screen which struck him dead centre on the forehead. Fuck! That was _not_ Coulson. That was…May? Clint leaped back like a scalded cat cupping his balls in his hands just in case she had any other ideas. What the fuck?! He turned back into the office and saw Coulson leaning against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest and legs crossed at the ankles, smirking (looking extremely sexy in his charcoal grey suit and dark blue silk tie, Clint noted).

Coulson’s blue eyes were shining and crinkled at the corners as he said in an amused tone, “Sloppy, Barton. Very sloppy.”

“Fuck man! I thought _your_ shower was busted.”

“Nope,” he replied, his lips popping on the ‘p’. “My shower’s fine. Communal shower’s gone tits up.”

“Bad intel,” Clint groused as he picked up his clothing from the floor putting it back on again.

“Hmmm. Remind me not to let you get your hands on my large bore diameter pipe any time soon. I’d hate for you to put your extension rod in the wrong place.”

“All due respect, sir, stick it up your ass!”

“Fair enough, Barton. Maybe you’d get it in the right place after all.”


	2. Tape Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coulson needs a shower / Barton needs shower sex...what could possibly go wrong?

Barton heard the good news/bad news scenario in the S.H.I.E.L.D. cafeteria. Coulson had been involved in an incident in the city and, although he was mostly unharmed (mostly?!), he’d ruined yet another suit thanks to being ‘slimed’ getting a couple of YouTube generation civilians who were doing their bit for posterity nearly getting themselves (and Senior Agent Phillip J Coulson, _his_ Senior Agent Phillip J Coulson) killed in the process. Fucking civilians! He was a tad miffed that Coulson hadn’t contacted him himself to let him know he was okay until he remembered that Coulson thought he’d be out of the country until tomorrow.  Oops, his bad for keeping his early return a secret.

Still, if Coulson was mostly unharmed (seriously what _is_ mostly unharmed?), if he was okay he’d be coming back to HQ for a shower. Shower meant naked Coulson; naked Coulson meant the possibility of shower sex; shower sex meant happy, happy Barton. Suddenly his day was looking up, much like his dick right about now.

Forty minutes later Barton watched a fleet of S.H.I.E.L.D. SUVs in tight formation enter the compound and head for the underground garage. He went for the nearest vent and pulled himself up making his way to the communal showers on the senior agents’ floor and waited patiently, if a little creepily, in the ventilation shaft opposite the shower room door. Another forty minutes later there was still no sign of Coulson. Even if Fury had wanted a de-brief, it would have been short in order to let Coulson get whatever was on him off and even if he’d had to make a trip to medical for them to scrape a sample…oh fuck! What if it had been serious? What if they had to keep him in? What if…oh wait there he was. Barton sighed in relief. Fuck he’d nearly missed him while quietly losing his shit. He’d just caught a glimpse of Coulson’s tailored grey suit as it disappeared into the shower room.

Barton relaxed again not realising how freaked out he’d made himself until the knots in his neck and back loosened as he forced himself to calm down. He’d wait another five minutes to give Coulson a head start (excuse the pun!) and then join him in the shower. It was one of the longest five minutes Barton could remember.  When the allotted time was up, he silently lifted the vent and checked no-one was around then carefully dropped to the ground. He’d get his ass kicked for this if he was caught but fuck it! Coulson was worth it.

He opened the shower room door and walked through the changing room to the already steamed up shower area, pausing only to strip himself out of his clothing in record time. He slowly walked forward and breezily said, “Would you like me to help you there, sir? Maybe you’d like to take my…”

“You’d better not finish that sentence, Barton. In fact you’d better turn your fucking ass round and disappear before I finish my shower or you’ll be on report quicker than you can soap up your balls.”

Barton didn’t hear there end of the sentence as he’d high tailed it out of there as soon as he realised it was in fact Blake in the shower, _not_ Coulson. Man he was SOOOO fucked right now. If it was at all possible he pulled on his clothes quicker than he’d managed to get out of them and as he jogged back through the changing room he bumped into the man himself. Whoa! Even covered in goo he was gorgeous. Hey! There were cuts and bruises, and was that a limp? Okay, mostly unharmed…he got it now.

“Barton?”

“I thought…you’re…it was…mostly unharmed.”

“What?”

“Nothing. See you later, sir,” and left to Coulson’s confusion…until he saw Blake coming out of the shower with a towel wrapped round his waist and a look of fury on his face. Coulson snorted out a laugh and began to peel off the ick-covered suit.


	3. Dossier Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint's cold, wet and in need of shower sex. He's got Coulson's motel room number and knows for a fact he's there...what could possibly go wrong?

That was bullshit! Fucking bullshit! The dossier did not say anything about the mark having a bag full of kittens that looked more adorable than Coulson in jeans that hugged his ass. If he'd known that he wouldn't have shot the guy on the bridge making him drop the kittens in the river. Of course he'd jumped in after them much to Phil's horror and Sitwell's amusement. He could still hear Sitwell saying "Three little kittens; une, deux, trois. Three little kittens fell in the river. Une, deux, trois, cats, sank"! Followed by a roar of laughter. Shithead!

Coulson had to stay behind and sort things out but he'd ordered Clint to get a cab and go straight to the motel which he agreed was probably the correct decision as he stood there shivering. So after he'd handed the kittens over to a smirking junior agent (obviously trained by Sitwell), he spent the next 25 minutes trying to get a cab that would take him in his current soaking wet condition. By the time he got to the motel, he was freezing cold, pissed off and wanted a shower and sex so badly he’d give the desk clerk a blow job if it would make it happen any quicker. Coulson was already there as evidenced by the lights on. He stood outside the door to the Coulson’s motel room about to pick the lock when he was approached by a room maid.

“Can I help you, sir?”

He put on his best sad face which Nat told him made him look like Puss and in Boots from ‘Shrek’ and begged to be let into the room. The room maid smiled at him and opened the door without hesitation. Yay Puss!

“Have a good night, sir.”

He gave her a shit eating grin and slipped her a ten, “Thank you.”

Jackpot! Shower was running and with luck Phil would be prepped and ready to go. At last something right with this dumbass, tits-up mission. He stripped out of his clothes leaving a trail to the bathroom, Phil could lambast him later if he wanted to but right now, a fuck he did not give. All he cared about was being under that shower, in Phil’s arms with their cocks touching and his hand slowly rubbing them to volcanic eruption. Well hello-o-o hard-on!

He opened the door almost choking on the steam and pulled back the shower curtain and whatever quip he was about to let loose with died on his lips as he looked into Sitwell’s eyes.

“Don’t talk. Just turn round and leave and the subject need never come up again.”

Barton nodded, closed the curtain and fled from the room. WHAT THE FUCK! He was positive Coulson had said room 15. He pulled on his clothes and yanked his cell phone from his cargo pants pocket. Ah fuck, no! One missed call – from Coulson. One text waiting – from Coulson.

> Answer ur phone sometime, asshat! Not rm 15. Error with res. Now rm 19.

Ah fuck, no! 


	4. Apartment Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coulson's on his way to his apartment and has told Clint he'll meet him there. Clint knows Coulson will want a hot shower after his gruelling trip and Clint can help him with that...what could possibly go wrong?

Phil’s text read > Running late :( Meet at apartment :) Let yourself in :)

Clint hopped, skipped and jumped up the front stairs to Phil’s brownstone apartment and using his key let himself in the main door.  Six days he hadn’t seen Phil. Six days! Goddamn crisis meetings. Goddamn World Security Council. And goddamn Fury for being a chicken-shit pussy and getting Phil to do his WSC schmoozing for him. Although in fairness if Fury _had_ gone it would have lasted 45 minutes and the funding would be reduced to enough to buy a packet of chips and a soda…if they were lucky. At least this way he would still get an R &D department that would keep making him his experimental arrows, preferably the ones that go bang. Yeah he could live with six days – just. He grinned as he jogged up the stairs to Phil’s floor and opened the apartment door where he headed to the kitchen to get the coffee on.

Hold the phone! The coffee _was_ on, Coulson’s special blend by the smell of it. Fucking tease! He was here all along. He cocked his head to the side picking up the sound of the shower running. Hell yeah! Shower sex! Clint toed off his running shoes and stripped off his jeans, t-shirt and underwear leaving them neatly over the arm of the couch, well as neatly as he was inclined, and bounced into Phil’s bedroom heading straight for the en-suite. He opened the shower and screamed which made Hill scream. He slammed the door shut then opened it again getting a face full of Glock 19. Yup, definitely Deputy Director Hill. What the fuck!

Clint retreated to the living room and pulled his clothes back on. That he did _not_ expect. Why was this his life? He did his job…no, he was brilliant at his job. He followed the rules. Okay he didn’t but he tried, right? He followed Phil’s rules. That had to count for something. All he wanted was a little shower sex with the hottest, sexiest most amazing man he knew. What the fuck was wrong with that? And why was Maria Hill in Phil’s apartment?

At that his phone buzzed alerting him to another text…from Phil.

> Warning! Maria using apartment. Jet lag…forgot :( DO NOT get yourself shot!

Barton groaned. Seriously! Why was this his life?

 

 


	5. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint has a plan to get Phil naked, in the shower and having sex in his room at the Tower...what could possibly go wrong?

The plan was to get Phil out of his clothes, into a shower and having sex as soon as possible. Clint didn’t care how he did it but he would do it at gun point if he had to. He knew Phil was on his way back to the Tower after a thirteen hour shift; he would be tense and grumpy and tired but three of the best ways for him to relax were a shower and sex followed by a long, interrupted sleep so a combo what just what the doctor ordered…if he’d consulted a doctor. First things first get the scene set and he headed off to Phil’s room to get things ready.

J.A.R.V.I.S. knew to let Clint and Natasha have access to Phil’s room so he didn’t comment when Clint entered, not even to let him know someone was already there. One might almost have thought it deliberate if they didn’t know the AI…or perhaps even more so if they did.

Clint heard the shower running and looked for signs of Phil of which, of course, there would be none. His suit would be hanging up in the closet and his dirty laundry would be in the hamper already. He was almost anal about it unless it was one of those nights when Clint’s lips would be firmly clamped to Phil’s and they tore each others clothes off leaving them where they fell. Clint felt his cock stirring. He was kinda hoping it was going to be that type of encounter tonight, but alas it looked as though Phil had got the drop on him. Traffic must have been ridiculously quiet for him to be here already.

He stripped off his own clothes and in deference to Phil bundled them together and threw them in the closet. Well…they were off the floor at least.  He headed to the bathroom and as he opened the shower cabinet he said, “Hey baby – how about I fuck your stress away.”

Steve looked at him in horror which was pretty much the same expression Clint was wearing.

“ _You’re_ not Phil!”

“I know, Clint, I...”

“But…what…why…you’re _not_ Phil.”

“Clint, I know I’m…”

“But…you…I…you’re not _Phil_.”

“I’m sorry Clint. My shower…”

“But I want Phil. Why are you here? I want to have shower sex with Phil. I don’t want you. _Why_ are you here?”

“Myshower’sbroken.ImetPhilthismorningandhesaidwouldbeokayifIshoweredhere.I’malllowedtobehere.Philsaidso.” It came out in a rush as one word in order for Steve to get a word in between Clint’s petulant whinges.

Realising he was being a whiny brat, Clint said, “Awww. Man, I’m sorry. I just… Finish your shower, Steve. I'll wait for Phil in the common area. FYI he’s on his way back to the Tower.” He gently closed the door and headed back to the bedroom to put his clothes back on. Phil walked in just as he was tying his shoes.

“Hey you,” Phil said with a tired smile on his face making his eyes twinkle. He frowned when it wasn’t reciprocated. “What’s up, Clint?”

“It’s your lucky night, Coulson. Captain America’s naked in your bathroom having a shower. I’ll leave you two alone to enjoy the moment.” And he walked out of Phil’s bedroom the excitement he felt earlier having completely gone.

Phil watched him go in bewilderment until this morning’s conversation came back to him. Steve’s shower was broken and the part couldn’t be repaired until tomorrow. Phil had told him he’d be out until late tonight and he was free to use his. Until now he didn’t think anything of it. He looked at the bathroom door and loosened his tie along with the top two buttons of his shirt then turned and headed after Clint. There was a time when Clint’s sentence would have made him faint; even now the fanboy part of his mind squeaked “Captain America’s naked in your bathroom! Squeeeeeee!!!” However the true love of his life needed a hug and that’s where he was heading.


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint has given up trying to have shower sex with Phil. After five attempts...what could possibly go right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is especially for Mad_Muse_Musings...My Phil/Clint cherry has finally been popped :D

Barton had given up trying to have shower sex with Coulson. It had officially become Mission: Impossible. Every time he tried he’d been cock blocked by someone or something and by now he was extremely pissed off and as horny as hell.

At the moment, he and Coulson were on a stopover before heading back to HQ after a cake walk mission which, in actual fact, had remained a cake walk mission which in turn was adding to Barton’s frustrations. At least if it had gone tits up, or he’d been required to use his skills as an archer, he would have burned off some of the excess energy that was making his body vibrate. He didn’t see the point of trying to surprise Coulson with sex in the shower again; something was bound to fuck it up and stop it from happening.

Resigned to having shower sex alone for the rest of his life, Barton headed to the bathroom, stripping out of his clothes, leaving a trail on the floor as usual. He turned the shower controls to hot and steamy, okay not the hot and steamy he like it to be but hopefully enough so that, with the assistance of some old fashioned self-worship, it might be enough to relieve some of the tension he was feeling.

With a heavy sigh he stepped into the shower and soaped up. He’d just managed to stroke himself hard imagining it was Coulson’s hand on his dick when he felt cold air hitting him as the shower door opened. What the fuck! Before he could turn round he felt a rough hand touching his bicep and a familiar voice, even if it was raw and broken, whisper in his ear “Can I help you with that?”

Clint almost came there and then. He leaned back slightly and felt a broad, hairy, sexy chest against his back and a hard cock nudging the crease of his ass and best of all a strong arm enveloping his body holding him gently.

“Fuck yeah! Five times I’ve tried…Ahhhhh!” He broke off as Phil’s hand wrapped round his cock and started to stroke his shaft. He growled deep in his throat and bucked his hips revelling in friction against his dick and the knowledge it was Phil’s hand and not his own that was causing him to groan with pleasure.

“It’s okay now. Let me take care of you.”

Clint gripped Phil’s forearm leaning his neck to the side opening it up to him as the senior agent tenderly kissed the curve of his archer’s neck down to the shoulder where he grazed his teeth against the muscle and sucked into the skin. Clint shivered against him as Phil’s hand continued to stroke him from root to tip; the gun callouses on his palm giving and the sensation an extra depth. It felt so good. It always felt so good. He shuddered as Phil ran his thumb over the head of Clint’s cock rubbing the pre-come over the slit.

The moan that escaped Clint’s throat as Phil touched him went to the pit of his stomach and he had trouble not coming himself.  He ran his hand smoothly over Clint’s length in slow, steady movements then picked up the pace speeding up and slowing down, squeezing and relaxing his hold on him until he felt the younger man tense against him.

“Come for me Clint,” he whispered in his ear. “It’s fine, baby. Come for me.”

It was all the encouragement Clint needed and with a cry he let go, his cock pulsing come all over the shower wall, his body trembling against the older man as he held him through the aftershocks.

“Ah fuck, Phil,” he sighed barely able to keep himself upright, his legs like jelly after having the strongest, not to mention the most amazing, orgasm he could remember for a very long time. Phil hugged Clint to him and nuzzled his neck. “I love you too,” he told him tenderly.

**Author's Note:**

> So...did you read it and hear the Mission: Impossible theme?


End file.
